


Life and Times with a Difficult Boss.

by NutheadGee



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Ana Is the Friend That Knows Everyone's Tea, Blowjobs, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/M, Gabriel Is A Pretty Dope Guy Here TBH, Humour, Masturbation, Mercy is Okay But She Can Be Ignorant, No Edgelord Shit, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Reinhardt is Everyone's Dad, Same WIth Soldier 76, Sarcasm, Smut, Soldier 76 Is Trying TBH
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-02 07:33:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8658136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NutheadGee/pseuds/NutheadGee
Summary: Despite all the problems you encountered in your life, you still managed to rise the ranks in Overwatch, before being recruited into Blackwatch. You still had plans and ambitions of your own, such as blowing the head off the asshole that assassinated your parents, but for now you still wanted to enjoy the small things that life had to offer you, such as solitude, peace and quiet, good food and recognition for your hard work.Gabby, aka Gabriel Reyes, Commander of Blackwatch and your immediate boss, had other plans for you, it seemed, and you were NOT ready.





	1. Chapter I

**Author's Note:**

> My descent into Overwatch hell has been slow and steady, so here we are.
> 
> Just so we get this out of the way, I am, in fact, a dirty Reaper main. I love it.

_ You would never forget that face for as long as you lived. She had brown skin, like you and mummy and daddy and she seemed... _ happy  _ that she had made your mummy like this. Her head was gone. It was not there, and there was red and white stuff surrounding her. Was she going to be okay? What about daddy? He was different. He had a big hole in his head, with blood flowing out. His eyes and mouth were open were as well. Was he going to be okay? He looked really sad. He was lying on his back. What was going on? Who was this scary person with brown skin and purple tights? Her tights were weird. They fit all over her body, not just her legs. And the ones on her legs were orange. You felt very bad, and you wanted to cry. _

_ “Well, I suppose I’ll have to kill you too. I should never leave any evidence.” Her voice sounded weird. She talked differently. You’d never heard someone talk like her before. She didn’t talk like all the other people from home. Why was she smiling? What had she done to mummy and daddy? Kill? What was kill? _

_ She raised something at you, and you immediately started crying, because this was all bad. This woman had done something bad to mummy and daddy and she was going to do something bad to you. You turned around to start running away, but you bumped into someone. You were still crying and you fell back. You looked up at him. He had yellow hair and grey eyes and all he did was carry you and ran away with you. _

_ Maybe he had mummy and daddy too. _

_... _

You looked around the room, an incredulous expression no doubt plastered on your face, from Dr Zeigler, to Commander Morrison, to Reinhardt, to your adopted mother ,Ana. All the others seemed to have a problem looking at you, except Ana, who was sitting on a chair right across from you, sipping what was no doubt some excellent quality tea and looking  _ right _ into your soul, her eyes twinkling.

Satan was alive and well, it seemed, reincarnated in the form of one Ana Amari, easily one of the best snipers you ever had the fortune to know, your mother figure and your mentor. You were one hundred percent sure she had planned this, and she had  _ told  _ \- not requested, not asked,  _ told  _ \- Commander Morrison and Dr. Ziegler that you should be a part of this mission.

Blatant abuse of power, if you were to be honest, but apparently, it was significantly above your pay grade to know how and why she held such influence,  _ despite your pay grade being directly under a Commander’s.  _

Well, there was the fact that she was second in command over the  _ entire  _ organisation, but still.

“So,” you said, leaning against a table. Reinhardt cleared his throat loudly. “What you’re saying is, this is a duo mission that only me and Gabby can perform? No one else? No other members of Blackwatch? Or Overwatch for that matter? Just me and good ol’ Gabby?”

The silence in the room was almost deafening. Ana still sipped her tea, no doubt smiling behind her teacup.

“Well,” Reinhardt started. “It’s more of this mission would be best attuned to...operatives of your skillset. After all, this  _ is  _ a covert mission and Blackwatch is the covert branch of Overwatch, so after some consultation-”

“Consultation that, conveniently, didn’t involve me,” you interrupted, tugging at your box braids that were collected in a bun on top of your head.

“- we decided that you and Commander Reyes would be most suitable for this particular mission.”

“I think there are more assassins than Gabby in Blackwatch and more counter snipers than me in Overwatch that also have the skill set to do this mission, not to mention I’m technically not a part of Blackwatch, I just tend to work with them a lot more often than not” you pointed out drily.

“Uh, yeah, you’re right, but we just believe that you and Gabe would really be the best here. Your success rate with Blackwatch operatives is ninety two percent, so you might as well be an unofficial member at this point. This is in Namibia. You trained there after your, er, rescue. You know the terrain better than most, and Gabe is just really good at close range assassinations. With you looking out for the perimeter, he can be in and out of there in an hour tops. Not to mention you and Gabe also have one of the best synergies in Blackwatch. This is one mission we can’t afford to fuck up, which is why during the consultation, we thought that you guys would be the best operatives to go through with it,” Commander Morrison said, drumming his hands on his bicep.

You sighed, looking at the clock on the wall. This was  _ definitely  _ Ana’s doing. All this time she had not said a single word, sitting behind everyone else, her hands demurely clasped together on her knee.

“Does  _ Commander Reyes  _ know?” you asked.

Everyone suddenly became very busy, turning to their holopads and looking everywhere else except at you. Even Reinhardt couldn’t answer you. You sighed again. It was going to be a long evening.

…

Gabby, or as you were soon to start referring to him again,  _ Commander Reyes  _ sat in his chair, leaned back, crossing his arms over his muscular chest, his left ankle propped over his right knee, eyebrow raised so far up it might as well have disappeared into his hair. You were one of the only people who could somewhat read his facial expressions, since he was always so stoic most of the time, and right now you could tell there was some incredulity and just slight irritation going on there, particularly in his piercing brown eyes.

“So let me get this straight,” he said, his baritone such a flat and dry drawl that you could almost see the sarcasm dripping from it. “You and I have been assigned a mission, to go and assassinate a Talon sympathiser over in Windhoek, Namibia where she’s holidaying with her husband and children.”

It was supposed to be a question,  but his tone of voice and delivery were so flat that it ended up sounding like a statement. That generally never signalled good news for whoever would be stuck with him in the next twenty four to forty eight hours, but at least he hadn’t sworn in Spanish yet, so there was hope.

“Well actually she’s with her lover but yes, generally that’s the gist of it.”

“And tell me again why I’m paired with you.” He leaned forward, placing his foot down with a little more force than necessary, his heavy boot slamming on the floor as his elbows balanced themselves on his knees, large, gloved hands hanging freely in between his legs. You saw a few rebellious strands of his black hair struggle to free themselves from his black beanie. You could almost see his muscles through his shirt.

You grit your teeth, both in irritation and other very explicit feelings you most definitely shouldn’t be feeling before managing to come up with a somewhat acceptable response.

“Apparently because they are in Namibia and I trained there I have better knowledge of the terrain than anyone else, so it’ll be easier for me to secure the perimeter as you go in and assassinate the target.”

You deliberately left out the part about your synergy, and going by the way he was regarding you, you had an idea he could notice.

“And?”

“And what?” you responded, trying to sound dismissive.

“There’s something else you’re not telling me.”

You swallowed. Goddammit.

“Apparently Gabby,” you begun. His eyes narrowed. You had always called him ‘Gabby’ as opposed to ‘Gabriel’,’ Gabe’ or ‘Commander Reyes’, something that tended to get on his nerves, which is why you insisted on calling him that in the first place. It amused you. After all, life was a risk. “We have excellent synergy, so we’ll work very well together. This is a very high profile mission, so they want the probability of failure to be as low as possible. That was the other reason they gave to pair us.”

It was silent for a moment, both of you probably contemplating why Overwatch higher ups in general were like this.

“ _ Follar,”  _ he growled as he turned back to what he was doing. You felt something heated pool at the base of your stomach at that low, brusque curse. “Go...prepare yourself. I’ll get back to you when we’re due to leave.”

You breathed out heavily, everything between your navel and your knees clenching. You managed to turn around and walk out somewhat civilly. A cold shower was very much in order.

…

You were lying on your back, your legs crossed, hands behind your head, staring at the ceiling. You had no idea what Gabby was doing, so you decided you might as well contemplate your life, go down memory lane so to speak.

You never thought you’d survive in Overwatch, let alone Blackwatch. You were a mess as a kid, partly due to witnessing your parents’ assassinations, and as patient as everyone was with you, in particular Reinhardt and Ana, you were expecting all their patience for you to run out and for them to promptly kick you to the curb. Your substantial issues transferred from your childhood to teenage hood, to early adulthood. But, here you were, not only a sniper, but working with the actual Commanders of Blackwatch and Overwatch on a consistent basis, and you were still living thus far.

Not too shabby, all things considered.

You turned back to your holo, looking at your target and her organisation. She was one of the largest financiers of Talon, which said a lot about her wealth considering the kind of technology, training, personnel, information and manpower Talon possessed. Overwatch had come to the conclusion that getting rid of her would be a huge blow to the organisation, not to mention her affair would be exposed. You did not go into details of aforementioned affair, you just knew that it would serve a big blow to her husband, an exceptionally corrupt individual in Chile, the target’s  home country and base of operations. That was supposed to be Gabby’s job. He was to infiltrate her when she was alone in her jacuzzi, pop her head off with one of his Hellfire Shotguns and dip. The time for the assassination to happen was calculated to be at about 1515 hours local time, with a give or take time of ten minutes, since at this time her lover would be out playing golf with his friends.

This was where you came in. You were supposed to set up to the west of the house, where there was a slight hill. You could see directly to the deck where the jacuzzi was installed, but it was slightly difficult to see up through the trees. The main reason you were here was to keep an eye out for Amelie Lacroix, now known as Widowmaker.

Widowmaker was the former wife of Gerard Lacroix, formerly one of Overwatch’s most renown engineers. Talon, for reasons also significantly above your pay grade, wanted him dead, but found it exceptionally difficult to capture him, so they kidnapped his wife and turned her into a living weapon to murder him instead. You had encountered her before, and she was devoid of all human feeling or emotion, which, you supposed, was why it was easier to combat with her. She was easily Talon’s most infamous sniper, and because she was so good, she would be the one sent to protect her.

You looked forward to confronting her.

Just then, your holopad beeped. You saw the blinking lights and figured it must have been Gabby telling you to meet him at the rendezvous point. You smiled slightly to yourself as you picked up your gear. This was gonna be great. You were fortunate enough to be assigned your own room, you thought as you put on your hoodie. Explaining to a roommate that you were off on a classified mission to be on the lookout as your boss assassinated someone would be quite awkward at best.

You jogged to the top of the administrative building, where your chopper was waiting for you. In the distance, standing next to the chopper which was starting up, you saw three figures, two of them tall, broad shouldered and broad, whereas one was shorter and much leaner. As you got closer, you recognised who the figures were: Gabby, Commander Morrison and Ana.

“Right on time,” Ana yelled, trying to be heard over the sound of the helicopter engine. You gave her a crooked grin in response.

“Off you go then. Safe journey, and don’t fuck up,” Commander Morrison shouted, as he watched you struggle to climb the chopper, fail, because you were too short, go down on his knee so that you could use his thigh as a step to get on the chopper step, finally climb inside, and promptly squeeze yourself in the corner and absolutely not look at any of them to hide your utter humiliation. The pilot handed you your earpiece, which you quickly snatched and mouthed a thank you to him, still avoiding eye contact with your superiors, before from the corner of your eye you saw Gabby very effortlessly leap inside to sit next to you and promptly take his own ear piece, nodding once curtly at the pilot, no doubt double communicating his thanks and simultaneously telling him to get us out of there immediately.

Was this truly real life?

…

Ten hours found you alighting out of the chopper in a desert plateau and getting into a four wheel drive that would drop you a fifteen minute walk to where you and Gabby would be staying for the duration of your mission. It took another hour or so until you arrived at your accommodation, a small but very luxurious cottage. It was very well supplied, with food, electricity, water and medical supplies to last both yourself and Gabby for up to two weeks. Being a sniper, Overwatch had ensured that you had been extensively trained in field medic work, mostly in case something medically catastrophic happened you could reduce the impact before operatives got full medical attention.

It could also be because Blackwatch operatives tended to be a little more reckless than normal, sane human beings but that was another discussion altogether.

“This place,” you said, looking around as you put the parts of your rifle behind the door and looked around, visibly impressed. “Is actually pretty dope. This what Blackwatch is using the difference between out salaries for, huh?”

Gabby snorted, half smirking at you. “Don’t ask me. I’m not in accounts. All I do is demand for facilities and they’re given to me.”

“Must feel good wielding that kinda power, huh?”

“Absolutely fantastic.”

You sighed. “Well, I’m going to go sleep. It’s gonna be a long day tomorrow.”

You walked around the cottage, looking for a bedroom, you saw one, rather spacious with a massive king size, four poster bed. You assumed that was Gabby’s, so you closed the door and continued looking. 

There were no other bedrooms.

“Gabby?” you called, walking back towards the sitting room to be assaulted by the man in question. He had removed his shirt and his gloves, and all you could see was smooth dark skin covering nothing but pure, unadulterated, lean muscle. The top of his pants was open, exposing checked black and grey underwear. Beanie was still on though, and those black, thick, unruly curls were sticking out of it in random directions.

You swallowed thickly. God  _ bless  _ the soldier enhancement programme.

Schooling your face in neutrality but internally salivating because it was, in your honest opinion, quite frankly a crime against humanity for a man to be this sexy, you enquired about sleeping arrangements.

“We’ll be sleeping in the bedroom, the one with the huge four poster.” The man had absolutely no shame parading himself around shirtless and absolutely driving your hormones insane.

Sleeping could wait. You were in need of a very cold shower at the moment, because at that point your panties were so drenched it was bordering on disgusting going to sleep like that.


	2. Chapter II

You weren’t being paid enough for this.

You were supposed to actually be set up on the hill, but you realised that there had to be a small amendment in the plan, for the sake of efficiency. At the end of the day, the main reason for you being brought to this mission was to ensure that Gab -  _ Commander Reyes  _ was alive, kicking and in one piece at the end of this whole mess.

“I’m all set up, Commander,” you said calmly into your mouthpiece. So far no trace of Widowmaker. I’ll be sure to let you know when I see her.”

Gabby was quiet on your end for a moment. “Noted.” His equally calm baritone came through. “I’m going in in about five minutes. I’ll tell you when to begin cover.”

You were hanging upside down on a tree branch, your legs bent over it in perfect balance, managing to get an excellent view over all of the blind spots that Gabby couldn’t the second he got into the holiday house that Monica Abasque, your current target was frolicking around in with her twenty two year old gigolo lover. You honestly pitied the guy, because he either absolutely had no no idea just how much of a clusterfuck his life was about to become, or he did but he didn’t give a fuck because he was greedy for money and a good life.

For some reason, you felt something was a bit  _ off.  _ Your instinct was screaming at you that something wasn’t quite right, and you needed to figure it out as soon as possible, because if this plan didn’t go  _ exactly  _ as planned then it wasn’t going to go very well for you guys.

“Something seems weird here, deputy,” the commander said suddenly into your earpiece. He slightly startled you, but you managed to recover quickly. “I have a hunch there maybe an altercation. Be ready for hand to hand any time.”

You grit your teeth in irritation. Looks like your instinct was right. Not that you had anything against hand to hand - you excelled at it during training, not to mention your inner sadist was always brought out during hand to hand combat. You felt a kind of dark thrill knowing you quite literally beat someone into submission, particularly when you felt like they deserved it.

It had been about two hours, and there was still no sight of Widowmaker or any Talon operatives. Gabby would be infiltrating the house in about three minutes.

“Commander, I think there should be a change of plans. I don’t think these guys have any intention of attacking from the outside-”

“Meaning they are probably in that place, all set  up and ready for one of us to walk in so that they can blow our heads off. Yes, I agree. Come to the exit rendezvous point. We’ll do this backwards.” He still sounded calm, but you’d worked with Gabby long enough to realise that he was quite irritated.

You immediately strapped your gun back on your back before lifting yourself upright on the tree branch and immediately clambering down. It was going to be a bit of a slide down the hill, but you could do it in about two minutes, giving both of you just less than a minute to focus back on this mission and go do what you were supposed to be doing.

You got to the meeting point and honestly you were very,  _ very  _ close to just stopping and staring, but military discipline came through and you slowed down from a jog to a brisk walk. To be very objective, your commander was an  _ incredibly  _ attractive man. It was almost painful.

He was leaning against a tree, his left leg bent at the knee with his sole on aforementioned  tree. As usual, he had his beanie on, no strands of hair struggling out of it for once. His hood was down, and his arms were crossed across his chest. He was staring at the ground, his full lower lip between his teeth. He’d even taken the effort to trim his beard as well. He was all armoured up, his belt with his cartridges in place, both his Hellfire shotguns strapped to his right leg (the only person you knew of who holstered both his weapons on one thigh) as his right one had his other cartridges. You wondered how the man had not been considered a walking bomb with the sheer amount of cartridges he carried on his person. Then again, he  _ was  _ a super soldier. His boots were polished to a dull matte.

This man could make Adonis himself blush.

His dark grey clothes were fitting on him, not  too tight or too loose, just perfect. He uncrossed his arms, and despite yourself you couldn’t take your eyes off his biceps as they flexed with the movement, hooking his thumbs on his belt and you could hear the friction between the leather of his gloves and the leather of his belt, it was that quiet.

You swallowed, about to open your mouth and inform him of your presence when he pushed himself off the tree, walking towards you. Your traitorous brain informed you to drop your gaze, and they ended up on his thighs, thighs that could probably crush a man into nothing but blood and bones and flesh and gore. 

You clenched your fists, trying to flood your mind with images of the monstrosity that was the coffee Jesse once brewed for you and hoped that would make your vagina stop turning into the Nile. “Get out your gun,” he murmured in your ear when he got to you, bent down to your height, the low timbre of his voice awakening a fire at the pit of your stomach that was most definitely  _ not  _ helping with the inappropriate thoughts currently circulating in your mind. “You’ll need it.”

You turned around to follow him, just in time to see him unholster his weapons. Not like this.

…

This was turning out to be very anti-climactic. Missions with Gabby were always so action packed because of how extra and petty he was, but even he just seemed tired and he just wanted to get this over with. You couldn’t blame him either. When you arrived the temperature was about  thirty eight degrees Celsius, and bow it had dropped to thirty six. You checked your holopad and you saw that in the evening it would go to as low as four degrees. Fucking deserts.

You wondered, as you twisted another of these incompetent guard’s necks, if internally bitching about the weather really would be the highlight of this mission. For someone as wealthy as she claimed, she sure had hired some shitty-ass guards to look after her. Maybe you’d be entertained when you actually got to the assassination.

You and Gabby walked into the jacuzzi room as if you were the ones that owned it and surprised Mrs Abasque, who was just about to open her mouth to scream, but before she could react Gabby had dashed to her, pushing one his guns into her mouth and pulling the trigger, quite literally blowing her brains out.

“You made a mess,” you pointed out, watching the brain and bone matter sliding down the glass through the blood.

“Nature of the job,” Gabby responded, lowering his weapon and sheathing it.

You had barely opened your mouth to respond before you were pulled against a hard, muscular body, powerful arm wrapped around your waist and hidden behind a door. All this  happened in less than five seconds, and by the time your brain was functioning properly, you were in the dark, breathing harshly. The arm around you loosened.

“Take your rifle, and go snipe the figured to the left and the right of the middle figure, the ones walking towards Abasque,” Gabby whispered in your ear, his voice low, quiet and husky. You closed your eyes, trying to regulate your breathing, still figuring out what the  _ fuck  _ had happened.

He loosened his grip around you to give you time to get your rifle from your back, but pulled you immediately back against him, your back to his front. You could feel all of him, from his chest to his abs to his thighs. You almost whimpered, until you saw the hole in the wall, about two feet behind where your head was 10 or so seconds ago.

Oh.  _ Oh.  _ Fuck.

Talon was finally here. You were done fixing your gun, and Gabby let you go to do your job. It took about ten seconds, when the middle figure suddenly stopped, seeing her colleagues drop dead, bullet holes straight through their foreheads. Her silhouette looked around, but she continued moving nonetheless. Adrenaline drove you, and you lowered your weapon, waiting for your commander to join you, which he did. It was dark, Gabby having shot at the fuse box before you got in, and since all the windows were tinted, the room was almost pitch black.

The door was shot at, before it was kicked in, and the infamous Widowmaker walked in, followed by a whole lot of sunlight, in all her blue-skinned, unnecessarily tight clothed, absolutely gorgeous and stunning glory. She looked at you and nodded once, as if she approved of you, before her gaze turned to Gabby. Her indifferent facade immediately twisted into a sharp, cruel smirk, as she eyed Gabby down like he was a piece of steak.

“Gabriel,” she purred in her thick accent, swaying her hips as she walked towards you. “What a pleasant surprise.”

You froze. You immediately started trembling, dropping your gun. That accent. You became mentally overwhelmed, your mind taking you all those years back when you witnessed your parents being murdered. They were killed by a French sniper. A woman, who also worked for Talon. She could have killed you as well, had you not immediately been rescued by Reinhardt.

Just as it came, it stopped. You felt calm flow through your entire system, and suddenly, you were filled with the urge to kill her. The woman with the french accent. You got into position.

“Deputy Commander Savanna Awori, stop it,” Commander Reyes snapped at you, a verbal smack to the back of your head. “Don’t you fucking dare kill her. She’s not your target. Focus on the mission.”

His words were loud and sharp, his deep voice authoritative. That brought you back to the present, and when you looked at yourself, you realised you were in a battle stance, ready to jump on Widowmaker and snap her back in two. You bent down to pick up your rifle, and looked at Gabby. He was staring straight at Widowmaker. He was tense, and you knew if Widowmaker even as much as shifted her weapon one part of her would be blown off. 

She probably knew it too.

“Sorry, Commander,” you whispered, swallowing your nerves. You didn’t understand why you were so terrified of this woman. What had Talon  _ done  _ to her?

Widowmaker turned to you. “Your new deputy?” she asked, eyeing you up and down, her hand on her hip. You stopped fidgeting and despite your apprehension of her looked back at her, slightly offended at how she was looking at you, making sure to raise your eyebrow when she caught your gaze.

“Delivered fresh and straight from the cadet programme. Ana’s protege as well. I dare say she’s just about as good a shot as you.”

“What about your protege?”

“Out on a different mission, last I heard. Not quite your type, I’m afraid. Don’t think his balls are ready to be fondled by your rough hands yet.” 

She laughed, everything about it dark, sinful and seductive. “You should know my type.”

“I still don’t know whether that’s a good or bad thing, to be perfectly honest.”

You risked a glance at Gabby, and you swallowed thickly, hot lust dripping straight to your stomach into your cunt, manifesting itself into liquid heat there. His stance had relaxed considerably, one of his hands loosely holding his weapon on his side, the one bent, his second weapon resting on his shoulder. His head bent slightly to the side, an equally cruel, sharp and very sexy smirk on his face.

Quite frankly, you didn’t know what blew your mind more: the fact that you had right now fully admitted to yourself that you were actually sexually attracted to your boss, or the fact that aforementioned boss was very blatantly and shamelessly flirting with the enemy.

You wondered if they had a history, though considering the time lapse it wouldn't make sense since Ms Blue here was kidnapped when she was still married before being kidnapped and brainwashed and proceeding to unceremoniously shank her husband in his sleep.

“Uh, excuse me. Truly sorry to interrupt your, um, conversation here, but Widowmaker, myself and the Commander here actually kinda have to go. It’s been great meeting you, truly. Pass my greetings to your organisation, and I promise I’ll be prepared for your accent next time we meet so that I can actually blow your pretty brains out,” you said, more than willing to leave, because this was getting a bit awkward for you, witnessing the sexual tension between your boss and your enemy.

Widowmaker suddenly turned to you, all her attention on you. You breathed in through your nose, your body getting tense again, ready to get into a combat stance if need be. From the corner of your eye you say Gabby run his eyes up and down her body, hungrily taking in her figure. You couldn’t blame him. She had a pretty phenomenal bum.

“And what is wrong with my accent exactly?” Her voice was calm, but you heard the sheer venom undertones in it.

“I don’t have particularly good memories associated with it. A French lady assassinated my parent when I was a kid, and she worked for Talon,” you responded, your voice sounding casual to anyone else, but you noticed the narrowing of Gabby’s eyes. He realised your tone, and it was the one you used when you were quite literally about to beat someone to death. You had done it before.

“Unfortunate that you stayed alive.”

“Overwatch came to my rescue actually. So here I am.”

“And they trained you to be a sniper, the actual thing that murdered your parents.”

“You know what they say. Irony is an interesting phenomenon.”

She was trying to bait you, trying to mentally shake you. She  _ clearly  _ had momentarily forgotten who your boss was.

For a heartbeat, she said nothing, just eyeballing you. You stared back at her, fastening your rifle back to your back and crossing your arms over your chest, your legs apart, a stance you’d picked from Gabby.

“Gabriel! Savanna! Get out of there. There is a bomb they have planted there. They have been planting it this whole time, when they found out you succeeded in assassinating Abasque. We don’t know how long it will take the bomb to detonate, but you need to leave that place right now!” Ana’s voice said frantically into your ear piece.

“Lake, now. Go!” Gabby yelled.

“Fire at them!” Widowmaker screamed, and in a second you were out of there, sprinting towards the lake you saw on your way hear. The chaos was almost instantaneous, bullets reigning around you, as you heard the bullets from Gabby’s shotguns. You crashed through the window and fell into the lake with a splash.

The water was  _ frigid,  _ so cold that your body immediately went numb. You tried to move your arms and legs but you couldn’t. Your whole body felt like it was frozen in place, and you could barely move, barely do anything.

So this was how it ended, huh? You hadn’t even had a chance to have your revenge yet...


	3. Chapter III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya know, my thirst for Gabe runs a lot deeper than I at first thought, so this just might end up slightly longer than I previously planned. Woops.
> 
> Also, this chapter is hella long. Got a bit carried away, but it's probably what you thirsty savages want. Though to be fair, I'm one of the biggest thirsty savages myself because I was truly blessed and inspired by Gabe's booty (AND THIGHS HOLY JESUS) in the Blackwatch Reyes Skin.
> 
> Anyway, bad manners starts here.

Why was it so  _ cold? _

You couldn’t stop shivering, your teeth chattering together like nails on glass. You felt like your blood had frozen in your veins. Your mouth was dry and when you opened your eyes you could have actually yelped in surprise, but your jaw was busy chattering, your body’s effort to try and get some semblance of heat going on.

It wasn’t working very well.

You looked around at yourself and you were not sure what was going on, because you were  _ swamped  _ with material. You had very warm pyjamas, with socks and mittens. You even recognised Gabby’s hoodie, and that thing was  _ heavy.  _ You were wrapped with blankets, and covered with even more blankets, and you looked up to see Gabby walk in with  _ two  _ hot water bottles, placing them at your feet.

It must have been scorching in the bed, and yet your teeth were still chattering, you were still trembling, still feeling so ridiculously cold.

“Hypothermia, level one,” Gabby said, tucking you into bed. “Go back to sleep. Hopefully by the time you wake up your temperature will have gone up a little bit and you can actually eat. I’ll explain everything then.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue, so you simply went back to sleep.

…

You woke up again, and this time your teeth weren’t chattering, but neither were you scorching. You didn’t feel like you were freezing over from the inside out, but you still did feel slightly unnaturally cold. You also felt as though the act of thinking wasn’t painful, which, you thought, was an improvement.

You still had Gabby’s hoodie on. It smelled...nice, like him, a masculine scent of sandalwood and pine. Very subtle, but still distinctive. You also had the warm pyjama pants and the socks. The mittens were also off, and the only blanket you could see was the one that was covering you.

You sat up on the bed, a little bit of effort, but at least you felt like your limbs were functioning. Another improvement. Gabby just happened to walk in, in a pair of black gym pants and a black t-shirt. He had his beanie off, and he was wearing black socks. His thick, black curls were unruly, falling all over his head. He looked at you, before immediately turning around and heading for the kitchen.

You were about to yell at him, but your mouth was drier than the desert outside, and all you managed was a rough croak. You noticed there was a jug of water and a glass next to you, so you decided to help yourself. You went through a glass and a half, before Gabby walked back in, a steaming bowl in his hands.

You attempted this whole ‘speech’ thing again. “What’s that?” Your voice sounded like the flu virus had materialised into claws and was scratching your vocal cords. You winced, more in irritation at your voice than the slight pain that accompanied it. You spared a glance at Gabby and he had some kind of ironic smile going on.

“Chicken soup. My  _ abuela’s  _ recipe. Not only will it help you warm up, but it’ll fix your throat.”

Now that’s he’d mentioned it, you were actually kind of hungry. You nodded, lifting your hands to receive the bowl. Gabby raised an eyebrow at you.

“No,” he said, walking towards the bed. “You still have some hypothermia, and you might drop it. Sit up straight. I’ll feed you.”

You blinked, before you tilted your head slightly, your brows furrowing and your mouth turning downwards, frowning in confusion. How the fuck was he going to feed you?! What was he taking you for? You were an Overwatch agent, a  _ de facto  _ Blackwatch member. Granted you still recovering from hypothermia because you dove into a lake that was probably three degrees in about seven degree weather, but  _ still.  _ You were damn well feeling significantly better and you could damn well feed yourself.

You were about to open your mouth to protest, but he beat you to it. “Don’t,  _ cariño.  _ You’re still sick, and I know what hypothermia is like. Sit up straight.”

He was using that  _ tone,  _ the one where he brokered no argument and he had made his decision. Gabby could be incredibly hard-headed. You did as he asked, but you sulked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“How do you even know about hypothermia? You’re a fucking  _ super soldier.  _ Aren’t you supposed to be kinda immune to it?”

He immediately moved to sit behind you, pulling you in between his legs and pushing you until your back hit his front. You swallowed a gasp, feeling his hard, muscular body behind you. He was so lean, so defined, so  _ chiseled.  _ His musculature wasn’t over the top, looking like those ridiculous men you saw who built muscle for show. His was much more subtle, needing you to actually see it or feel it to understand just how strong and defined he was.

He leaned forward, his mouth at your ear, his arms around you, under yours as he moved the bowl of soup in front of you. “I have both seen my men go through it and have undergone it myself. It’s not fun either suffering from from it, taking care of someone suffering from it, or burying someone that suffered from it,” he murmured in your ear, turning his head as he brought the spoonful of soup to your mouth.

You closed your eyes, breathing out through your nose and opened your mouth to take the soup. You swallowed it, together with your arousal. He literally overwhelmed you with his presence, and his scent, the one that was on his hoodie hit you again. God this  _ man… _

His soup, however, was nothing short of absolutely  _ marvellous.  _ The heat from the spices and the little chicken and vegetable bits made you forget for a moment how you were draped in your extremely sexy commander’s arms, sitting in between his thighs that you had dreamt of doing very inappropriate things to, feeling his steady breath on your ear and watching him feed you like a kid. Even when you were sick you the thirst was real. Why were you like this?

Okay, so maybe you never forgot about it and you thought about it every single second.

You had finally finished your soup, and Gabby put the bowl and spoon on the bedside before pouring you another glass of water. You took it from him, murmuring your thanks, and you gulped it down, desperate for any distraction of the sudden flare of arousal that came alive in your cunt when your fingers brushed his. How long were you going to survive like this, desperately wanting to fuck your boss but hesitating because of all the scandal that could erupt and all the fiduciary duties you’d be breaching, not to mention Ana would be dragged into the whole mess as well, being her protege and all.

But then again, you were in the middle of fucking Namibia, in a cabin in a desert. Would anyone really know if you rode your boss’ dick like a pogo stick? Because honestly speaking you could bet half of Overwatch’s budget that a very good chunk of Overwatch and Blackwatch operatives  _ want  _ to ride your boss’ dick like a pogo stick.

And Talon too, if Widowmaker is anything to go by.

Speaking of Talon and Widowmaker, “Do you and Widowmaker have a history?”

He turned you around to face him, forcing you to sit cross legged, as you were still in between his legs, stoic features trained on you. His chocolate brown eyes were piercing, and only strict, military discipline enabled you to keep eye contact. You noticed the laceration scars on his right cheek, along with the strong jawline, beautiful moustache and goatee, smooth skin. This man did not look a day over 25, yet he was six years older than you, and you were younger than 25. It was difficult to read him, especially when he was unwavering as now.

You dropped your gaze, the intensity of his stare getting to you.

“We had a bit of a...fling. I knew her from my military days. We met when I was posted in France. She...was an available fuck, and a great friend. I was a piece of shit, mainly associating with her for pussy, but I guess we grew on each other. We talked a lot, even when I left military and joined Overwatch. When Jack, Ana, Reinhardt and I went to the Swiss HQ, I saw her there, married to Gerard, one of the most important individuals in Overwatch at the time. We assigned all our protection to him,  knowing how desperately Talon wanted to kill him, but for some reason, people overlooked the fact that she could be at risk too. Jack and I tried to advocate protection for her as well, but...we weren’t listened to.”

His voice was calm and steady, never wavered or cracked, but the regret was very clear. You waited for him to continue, but he didn’t, because everything he didn’t say was kind of obvious.

“Now she’s an enemy, a brain washed sniper, a fucking brilliant one too.” he chuckled, the sound dark, sarcastic, sharp but still somehow smooth and deliberately sexy. You shifted slightly, licking your lips. 

“Well, she looks like she’s still down to fuck. Honestly, was she even being subtle?”

You tried. You really tried to be subtle in your bitter jealousy, because it wasn’t  _ fair  _ that she not only was sexy, but was damn good at her job. Well, so were you, but what you lacked in sex appeal of that magnitude you more than made up for in sarcastic snark and witty shade. That had to account for something.

You looked up at Gabby, and only the thought that he would actually block and/or dodge your punch stopped you from throwing it. He was smirking at you, obviously amused, but it was his eyes, that look he gave you that almost made you do a double take. Gabby was Commander of Blackwatch because his stoic RBF made him excellent at hiding his emotions, but one of the most difficult emotions to hide was lust, and though his general features showed cocky confidence right now, infected in his eyes was nothing but pure, unadulterated  _ lust. _

His smirk switched, cruel, sharp and  _ predatory,  _ like a switch blade, aimed at you. You gulped, raising an eyebrow and immediately crossing your arms in front of you, under your bust. Immediately his gaze dropped, to your aforementioned bust, before he caught and held your gaze again.

“Are you jealous?” he asked, voice steady. He’d even leaned forward, directing all of his attention to you. You were so tempted to wrap your arms around those broad shoulders of his.

“Not at all. What makes you think that?”

Your voice was  _ dripping  _ with jealousy, and if his continued smirk was to tell you anything, that jealousy was mirrored on your face.

“You know, you are a very attractive young woman, and honestly speaking, I’d have already asked you to sleep with me if I wouldn’t be sure Ana wouldn’t already be plotting to get us together, so perhaps let’s humour her now, shall we?”

You didn’t even have a chance to respond. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close to him and flipping both of you over, so that you were on the bed, lying on your back, and he was on top of you, just barely holding himself over you. Your squeal was louder this time, when you automatically reached out for him, wrapping one of your arms around his neck, the other clutching his arm, as you bounced on the bed.

Your eyes were closed during this whole fracas, and when you opened them his face was centimetres away from yours, that sharp, wicked smirk on his lips, his brown eyes a darker, richer shade than they normally were. You closed your eyes again, and swallowed, feeling that tell-tale heat forming at the pit of your stomach. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but apparently speech was out of your current capabilities.

You felt his hand your chin, holding it with his thumb and forefinger. “God I’ve wanted you for a while. I just haven’t been able to figure out how to have you until now. Do you know how tempting it is to rip your pyjamas off and fuck you against my wall?”

You whimpered, trying (and failing) to pull him closer towards you, your hand on his bicep tightening. Since pulling him to you wasn’t working, you took the initiative and pulled yourself onto him instead, crashing your lips into his and rolling your hips against his own. He moaned into your mouth, and you shyly pushed your tongue into his mouth, sighing deeply yourself at feeling that hot, hard, bulge in his pants. You begun to explore, leaving his bicep and running it over his shoulder, to his chest, to his abdomen.

Gabby  pushed you down onto the bed, his lips not leaving yours, as he tugged up your shirt, only breaking the kiss to pull it off your head. He spared you a glance, your lips probably swollen from his kiss, your braids splayed all over his pillows, before he descended on you again, latching his mouth on your jawline, kissing his way down your neck. He leaned upwards again, just to look at you, running a large hand over your breasts. You blushed, biting your lower lip and turning your head to the side so as not to look at him.

“You’re beautiful,  _ querida, _ ” he muttered, before hooking his thumbs on the waistband of your pyjamas, taking them off, together with your panties.

“Wait, you too,” you muttered, as you pulled his t-shirt off, then his pants, depositing them somewhere on the ground. He lifted your legs to his waist, before he bent down again, burying his face in your shoulder, his finger tracing your folds, feeling how wet they are. You mewled, then shuddered, when he slipped his index finger until the first knuckle.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he murmured, slowly pulling out and pushing in again. You breathed out slowly, feeling slightly uncomfortable, but nothing too serious. 

“No,” you wept, moving with his finger, but he managed to pull it out anyway.

He huffed out a laugh, lowering himself to you again, slipping his finger back inside you. Completely not expecting it, you gasped, subconsciously tightening around his digit. Slowly he pumped it in and out a few times, then added a second one, repeating the motion. You started to feel a pleasurable feeling, and it was spreading throughout your body from your cunt like electricity across copper cables. Gabby wrapped his arm around you again, lifting you towards him, forcing you to wrap your arms around his neck to balance yourself. You felt his cock on your thigh, long, hard and thick, the tip slightly damp.

“Does your mentor know how much of a fucking  _ slut  _ you are for me? Look at you, right now, moving your cunt in rhythm with my fingers, dripping wet all over my hand. What are you, a semi-virgin  _ puta _ ? For someone who doesn’t fuck much you sure know what do, how to react. I don’t even have to say anything before I feel this tight little pussy of yours clench around my fingers, desperate for my dick to split you into two. You want me to take you hard, fill you up with so much of my cum and have you screaming my name all night like the desperate little whore you are.”

Right on cue, you felt yourself clench around him, the earlier pressure at the pit of your belly getting tighter and tighter. You moaned, feeling him build up on your orgasm, bringing you closer to release, and your body was getting ready for it.

“Please,” you begged, not even sure what you were begging for, pushing yourself further into his body. He yanked his fingers out of you and you sobbed, regretting the lack of contact. He brought his fingers up to your mouth.

“Open. Clean up.”

It wasn’t a request, it was an order, a  _ command _ , and you swallowed. You opened your mouth and took his long thick fingers into your mouth, tasting yourself. You were still sucking on them, before you felt something hot and thick in your folds, slowly pressuring to enter, stretching open.

“Relax,” Gabby purred in your ear, his thumb making small circles on your waist. He slipped inside you with one, smooth stroke, moaning some a string or words in Spanish. For a moment both of you paused. He was massive , filling you completely, your walls struggling to accommodate and stretch around him. He was panting erratically in your shoulder. You clenched your teeth, then gasped. It felt so good to have him sheathed so completely in you like this.

“Give me a moment,” he said, shifting slightly above you.  Slowly, he pulled out, until the tip, before slamming back in. You screamed in absolute pleasure, the slight sting making your entire body shake under him. You felt him smirk in your neck, before he set a rhythm, fucking you hard and deep. At this point every and all forms of cognitive ability had disappeared, the only thing your brain recognised was Gabriel above you, inside you, all over you. He overwhelmed you, and you loved every second of it. The only sounds you could register yourself making was his name falling from your lips as he pounded into you.

 

The last question was made with a rough, hard thrust and all you could manage was to cry in pleasure.

“Yes, oh God yes,” you moaned, loving every second of this rough treatment. You never  thought rough sex would be your thing, but here you were. You felt his hand move between your bodies, dipping into your folds and finding your clit, pressing it in turn with his thrusts. Your body felt like it was going to explode.

“Cum for me,” he hummed in your ear, and with a final thrust it happened. Your body arched into his, as you felt blinding white light behind your eyelids, pleasure shooting all over your body like electric shocks as your orgasm hit you. You clamped hard around his cock, milking him for his seed, spasming around him, yelling his name. Suddenly he growled, a low, animalistic, sexy sound, before he came, spilling his hot seed into you, his hips twitching erratically over you. He came so hard and so much, you felt his body tremble above you, supporting himself on his bed with his arm that wasn’t around you.

You felt his cum trickling out of you, going down your thighs. 

Oh God, you had just had the most mind-blowing sex of your life with your Commander. What if you got a call from HQ tomorrow?!


	4. Chapter IV

You slowly woke up, eyes still closed to a pleasant, masculine scent of sandalwood and pine. The sheets were so smooth, so crisp. Were you in heaven, because last you checked your sheets over in your room weren’t  _ this  _ crisp _. _

You stretched, and there was a sore pain that shot over your legs and your lower abdomen that started from your crotch. You winced, eyes still closed and tried turning - where actually were you, because your bed was also not this large - and you felt a warm spot. Your eyes shot open, and ignoring the not unpleasant pain between your legs you sat up.

You looked around the room, braids flying with every turn of your head, promptly being reminded just where exactly it was you were and what activities you and  _ your commander  _ had engaged in the previous night. You blushed at the thought. Gabby was even better in bed than you had imagined. It was kind of a pity  that you wouldn’t be able to tell anyone about this. Blackwatch agents were good at keeping secrets, since secrecy was about fifty per cent of the job description, but you really didn’t think you were socially ready for the looks that would come your way.

And to be extremely honest with yourself, you weren’t willing to let this be a one-time thing.

As you were busy thinking about new ways of breaching your fiduciary duties, Gabby walked out of the shower, and for the second time in twenty four hours, your control had failed you. Your jaw was slacking, quite literally, and you could not tear your eyes away from the sight in front of you. Liquid heat manifested in your cunt again, because it was truly a crime against humanity to be this  _ sexy. _

Gabe had walked out of the shower, loose boxers hanging  _ ridiculously  _ low on his hips. They were dangling so low, in fact, you could see the very clear outline of his Apollo’s belt dipping down into those boxers, subtle, but definitely there, like the rest of his muscles,  together with that thin trail of black hair from his navel down into his...you closed your eyes tight, blatantly  _ refusing  _ to think about it any further. And his  _ thighs. _

His thighs were nothing short of a masterpiece. In fact they were so beautiful, so muscular, so  _ thick,  _ that there was no doubt in your mind that if Leonardo Da Vinci and Michelangelo were alive today they would most definitely end their legendary feud to agree that this man’s thighs were to be forever revered.

You attempted to swallow, but your throat had dried up. He had a towel covering his entire head, including his face, drying his hair. He still had slight droplets of water on his torso, and your brain managed to mislead your unfortunate eyes to follow one particular trail from his goatee, down to his jawline that was strong enough to carry all of your sins, down his neck, over his muscular chest, down his defined abs and disappeared into his boxers. Jesus father Lawd which ancestral spirit of yours was doing this to you? Were they happy or mad at you? Did they want libations? Confessions? The cleanest and purest of traditional brews? Sacrifices of chicken? Fish? You didn’t know at this point, and when Gabe pulled the towel from his head - you  _ swore  _ he deliberately did it slowly because for some reason you couldn’t take your eyes off his biceps as he took that goddam towel off - he had that trademark smirk on his face, the one that had your brain (or what was left of it at this point) turning into goo and settling somewhere at the base of your skull.

It was truly unfair that one man could have so much sex appeal that you, and entire special ops agent was reduced to gaping like a fucking idiot. 

“You’re drooling,  _ hermosa.” _

Even his voice just sounded...low, husky. Everything dark and sinful and seductive like melted chocolate. It seemed Blackwatch was out to kill you. You had just woken up and your brain wasn’t ready to handle this.

Nonetheless, you managed to shake your head and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand to confirm that you were, in fact, drooling. You looked up to the heavens and asked whichever deity was listening why this was happening to you.

“I’m hungry,” you snapped, embarrassment coming through.

He chuckled as he walked out the room, the warm sound making you clench. “Yeah, alright,” he drawled. He clearly believed that excuse. The thirst was real, and he knew it, cocky piece of shit.

You sighed. You were in need of a very cold shower.

…

You got out of the shower well showered, your genitals clean and fresh, and wearing a t-shirt probably two sizes too big for you and slacks you stole from Jesse. 

“Ana and Morrison are gonna conference call in a bit for us to swap information about this mission. You’re gonna get it coz I’ve got something I need to sort out first,” Gabby said, his voice seemingly nonchalant. He was definitely scheming something. He wasn’t one to just not answer conference calls for his missions. You had done missions with him a number of times and he had always taken the calls himself. What was so different this time?

Nonetheless, you grabbed your holopad and an earpiece, and proceeded to sit on the bed, using the holo to connect the earpiece to the computer in front of you. You noticed that Gabby had disappeared again, and before you could question it or call for him to find out where he’d gone, you had to receive the phone call from Switzerland.

“Hello?” You muttered into the mic. “Sorry I’ve switched off my camera for now. I’m currently walking towards the computer. Give me a moment please.”

It was the Strike Commander and Ana staring at you when you switched on the camera, making yourself comfortable on the desk, and you saw their faces change when they realised Gabby wasn’t there. “Where’s Reyes?” Strike Commander asked.

You shrugged. “No idea. Said he had something to attend to.”

The Strike Commander raised an eyebrow. “Anyway, let us proceed.” Ana had that secretive smile of her.

Gabby was  _ most definitely  _ scheming something.

You begun be telling them about how the mission went, going in great detail about how you had to change some intricacies, to the actual assassination, to the meeting with Widowmaker. You informed them about the lake, and your resulting hypothermia. You were begin to exchange information about the aftermath cleanup and the capture of Abasque’s lover, when you felt it, a feather like touch on your calfs, and only a considerable amount of self control stopped you from jumping in your chair.

“Excuse me, give me a minute,” you said, bending down and seeing what it was that had tickled your leg. You only managed to swallow your gasp when you saw  _ fucking Commander Reyes,  _ down on his knees, only having put on a pair of slacks, gently nudging your legs open so that he could settle in between them. The sexy smirk and the twinkle of mischief in his eye told you  _ exactly  _ what he was intending to do, and you blushed so intensely it was a wonder your skin hadn’t burnt off.

For a second, you thought he wouldn’t dare, then you remembered just who it was exactly you were talking about. A great chunk of the reason he is Commander of Blackwatch is due to sheer guts. You could respect that.

You composed yourself and faced your superiors again. You weren’t even halfway with your verbal report and Gabby had every intention of eating you out during it.

You swallowed mid-sentence as you felt his large hands move up your thighs, before he reached the waistband of your pants, tugging on them slightly downwards, requesting you to stand up so he can pull them off. You lifted your hips slightly off the chair, and within two or so seconds your were naked from the waist down. You subconsciously leaned forward, as if trying to block your superiors from seeing what their colleague was about to do.

Again you felt his hands against your skin, his slightly rough and calloused, as he kissed his way from your inner knee through your inner thigh. You bit your inner teeth, trying desperately to pay attention to what Strike Commander Morrison was saying, but failing because Gabby was kissing your outer folds as if they were delicate petals that would fall off at any moment.

You needed to end this, right this moment.

“Uh, Commander, Ana, I gotta end the call. Can I call you back? Something I need to discuss with Gab-er, Commander Reyes. We’ll get back to you later. I promise. Bye.”

You barely managed to switch off the apparatus before you literally squeaked like a mouse when his grip on your hips tightened slightly and his nose grazed the very top of your vagina, and you fidgeted a little, more than slightly nervous, despite having engaged in some thorough sex the night before.

“Quiet, little one, and let me taste what I own.”

You couldn’t help it, you literally moaned at that. It wasn’t even remotely vulgar, but just the commanding tone in his voice when he said it what had you rapidly moistening. You managed to settle down on the chair, one hand clutching the chair like a lifeline, the other burying itself in his thick, curly hair, directing the tension from the rest of your body to your hands.

Suddenly, you felt it, his tongue as it parted your vaginal lips and his nose grazed your clit. You closed your eyes and clenched your teeth, the pleasure much more than you anticipated. He took his time, running his tongue up and down in slow firm strokes, occasionally changing the direction and the pressure, absolutely driving you insane because of how unpredictable he was being.

You’d heard all about getting head from men, how amazing and literally jaw-dropping it was. All those descriptions and sighs and declarations could never, ever even hold a spark to the real thing. You couldn’t believe this was what you were missing out on. Gabby was literally eating you out, like he would an ice cream cone, and you felt like you were in heaven, if heaven was an actual place.

He moved his mouth to your clit, pulling it gently between his lips and sucking on it like it was the only water source in a desert. The pleasure was instantaneous, shooting all over your body, so intense that you literally lost your voice. Your hands immediately moved to that silky hair of his, fisting it and you bucked your hips in his face. In response he licked it with his tongue, over it, around it, everywhere as he gently moved his hands from your hips down to your thighs. You closed your eyes, feeling them tearing, the pleasure that intense.

You weren’t expecting it, neither could you feel it at first, but just when he’d dove back into your pussy your orgasm hit you like an electric shock. You opened your mouth to scream but no sound came out as your back arched upwards, your hips so far up in his face you wondered, somewhere in the recesses of your pleasure-addled mind whether you were suffocating him. He never stopped however, even as you went through your orgasm, your whole body trembling, Still he licked and sucked and lapped you up all the way through it, until you were spent and limp on his bed, panting and thoroughly pleasured.

You watched Gabby pulled away from under the table, too doped up on pleasure to do anything. He came round, and kissed you, devouring your mouth. You moaned into his mouth as you tasted yourself, burying your hands to the nape of his neck, massaging him gently there.

“Let’s get back to the call, shall we?” he murmured against your lips, pulling away slightly. “You seemed to be a little out of it mentally when you woke up. I thought that perhaps eating you out would be the best way to get you back on track, no?”

You looked away, furiously blushing for the second time in less than an hour. You were not even the blushy types, and it really got you thinking about how Gabby got you feeling like this all the goddamn time. You fidgeted in your chair as he reconnected the call back to HQ in Switzerland, and the sceptical look you got from COmmander Morrison and the knowing look you got from Ana gave you a very bad feeling.

“Having fun there, Reyes?”

The Strike Commander wasn’t even bothering to hide his sarcasm. He may not have known exactly what was going on in between the two of you but he had an idea.

“Inside or outside the cottage?”

Ana snorted inelegantly.

“Fucking your subordinates on missions is inappropriate workplace behaviour.”

“Quite one to talk, aren’t you, Morisson?”

The Strike Commander opened his mouth as if to say something, lifting his index finger, but he dropped it, closing his mouth and pouting.

“Oh God, why?” you mumbled, burying your face in your hands.

“Okay everyone, I think it’s time to focus again,” Ana reminded you all, trying to steer this conversation back onto the right track despite the mirth in her voice. Oh, she was definitely enjoying this, not surprising considering she was Lucifer incarnate.

You loved her to death.

“I strongly doubt Sav wants to know about your sexual adventures, or I would have told her about the number of times you have both indulged in each other.”

You gasped, scandalised. You turned to Gabby, hand to your mouth, both surprised  _ and  _ judging, asking without really asking for confirmation. Objectively the Strike Commander was an attractive guy, but you never thought him to be Gabby’s type.

Gabby shrugged, as the Strike Commander, with a face redder than a ketchup bottle grumbled silently to herself. Ana was giggling like a school girl.

“You’ve  _ fucked  _ him?!” you screeched at Gabby, hearing Commander Morrison’s appalled “Language!” from the screen and Ana going from giggling to outright chuckling.

“We were alone, I wanted dick and he was the only one I knew was clean within a fifty mile radius of me, so I fucked him.”

“They both thoroughly enjoyed it too, if I recall. Couldn’t look each other in the eye for a while. It was hilariously awkward when some UN diplomats came over and they had to act like they hadn’t been secretly sucking each other’s dicks in their respective offices as they discussed financial allotment.”

“Ana for fuck’s sake,” you had Strike Commander Morrison wail, still red face now buried in his hands.

“Those were good times though,” Gabby added.

“Anyway,” you muttered, going from scandalised to somewhat amused. “Back to the matter at hand.”

What had you gotten yourself into? Could it get any worse?

Why were you tempting the Fates?


	5. Chapter V

It turns out that yes, you could and had tempted the Fates and as a result it had gotten worse. You didn’t even know what the fuck ‘it’ was. You just knew that it was worse, and you didn’t like it.

It wasn’t even twenty four hours after you and Gabby had arrived at HQ from Namibia. Why on earth did you get involved with this black ops business again? This saving the world bullshit? Who was gonna save  _ you  _ from this misery?

“I’m sorry, Strike Commander Morrison, but could you please repeat that statement?” Your voice rose about an octave higher, because incredulous couldn’t begin to describe what you were feeling.

As for your superiors, you couldn’t tell who was more exasperated: the Strike Commander, Rinehardt or Dr. Ziegler. Ana, you were sure was extremely amused, and if you didn’t know better, you would have thought, in fact you would have been  _ extremely  _ sure that she was scheming something. However, such was the nature of this job description that you knew she wasn’t scheming.

_ This time,  _ you thought with suspicion.

Commander Morrison cleared his throat. “Well, the mission you and Gabe were at has been extended.”

“Why?” you demanded, eyes narrowed. Commander Morrison regarded you with a raised eyebrow, not taking kindly to your tone. You risked being punished for subordination - not even Ana could save you from this one - but you didn’t care because you wanted answers.

Reinhardt looked at you equally disapprovingly, and then you realised that you should probably start caring a little. You swallowed, bravado being replaced with apprehension.

“I apologise for my tone, but I just don’t understand why I’m still involved in this...issue when I have done my part of the job.”

The Strike Commander pinched the bridge of his nose, no doubt trying to relieve the pressure he felt there, blonde hair falling into his eyes. “Someone needs to keep an eye on Gabe. We captured Abasque’s former lover - his name’s Kevin - and he’s not being cooperative. Gabe has to interrogate him.”

You didn’t understand. What did that have to do with Gabby? He in particular rarely did interrogations. That was more Jesse’s forte. In fact the only time you’d heard Gabby doing interrogations was when there was a pretty hardcore, international criminal running amuck, and from what you could tell, this Abasque’s lover didn’t quite fall in the “pretty hardcore, international, criminal” category. If it was her husband then you could understand, but not the lover. Dude was pretty young, only a couple of years older than you.

The most important question here was, what had this got to do with  _ you? _

You were about to enquire one more time why you, in particular had to be there, but Ana beat you to it.

“He’s a former recruit of Blackwatch, but he got greedy and defected to go shackle up with Abasque. I have known Gabe for quite a while, and he’s a very dear and kind guy, but he  _ cannot  _ stand traitors. He’s extremely self-aware, and he knows that he may not be able to hold himself back from grievously wounding Kevin if he becomes lippy, which he will, so he asked you be there to get him back on track when he feels his temper is getting the better of him. This mission is extremely highly classified, and it would be best if someone that’s involved and knows details is there to monitor the situation.”

Ah. So  _ that’s  _ the actual reason that they had you assigned to go with Gabby for the assassination this time.

“Why should he be the one specifically to do it?” you asked carefully, already knowing exactly what they would respond with anyway.

“Because Gabriel is easily the best interrogator in all of Overwatch  _ and  _ Blackwatch,” Reinhardt said.

You had heard tales of Gabby’s interrogation skills. Records stated he had done a grand total of 6 interrogations since the establishment of the organisation, and all of them were done when his protégé, equally infamous and just as brilliant Jesse McCree was unable to get any information from the intended target. Legend has it that Gabe had walked in, and within twenty five minutes to half an hour the person being interrogation was babbling away any and all information Overwatch had needed. More often than not the person’s memory was wiped after, but there had been more unsavoury targets (two, if your memory served you correctly) that had been eliminated. Such was the nature of black ops.

You looked at each and every of your superiors. This wasn’t a matter of choice. All you had to had to do was ask where and when the interrogation was happening, because whether you liked it or not, it was happening.

“Where am I supposed to be?” Grim couldn’t begin to describe how this day was gonna go.

…

You saw Gabby outside the interrogation room, going through some documents. He was dressed in his casual Blackwatch gear: a long sleeved crew neck shirt, black cargo pants and his classic combat boots. He had his beanie hanging out of one of his pockets, thick, black, unruly curls flopping over the top of his head. He seemed to have shaved recently, with the back of his head and his sides much shorter.

He looked up at you, his stoic face in place. His gaze, intense and piercing held your own, and you swallowed, a certain familiar heat beginning to boil at the pit of your stomach.

This wasn’t Gabby, this was Commander Reyes.

He handed you a very tiny earpiece which you immediately placed in your ear. You didn’t need him to tell you what it was for. “Record everything that’s said in there by both of us. He kind of knows how Blackwatch works, but he doesn’t know the intricacies. He knows someone will be watching, so he’s going to be extremely careful.” He turned around, removing his beanie from his pocket and pulling it onto his head.

You nodded, somewhat meekly. When Gabby was like this he was very scary, all business and no fucking around. This was a man who was both in the military  _ and  _ trained as a black op. When it came down to it be could be utterly  _ terrifying,  _ but you had to admit at least to yourself, there was something  _ dangerously sexy _ about Gabby when he was in Commander of the black ops mode.

“Let’s go,” he said lowly, nudging his head towards the door. He snapped the file in his hands closed and opened the door, holding it out for you. You mumbled a quiet thank you, and went and leaned on the table that faced the one sided mirror that faced the actual interrogations room. Gabby walked towards Kevin, and though you could see defiance on his features, the tension in his shoulders and the slight ticking of his foot on the other gave away some slight indication of fear.

“Long time no see,” Gabby begun, pulling a chair and turning it backwards, broad shoulders hunched forward as his rest his thick arms on the backrest. “Tell me about Abasque.”

“She’s dead,” Kevin screeched, almost lunging at Gabe. “You  _ murdered  _ her, then you sent your goons to come after me, you fucking piece of shit.”

Gabe said nothing, waiting somewhat patiently for Kevin to finish his tirade. “Thank you for the reiteration of facts to me that I’m already very well aware of,  _ ojete.  _ I don’t give a fuck about her, since she’s dead. I just want intel on her husband. What he’s up to, where he’s at, if he still has intentions of funding Talon, that kinda thing.”

“I don’t know,” he said immediately, rousing suspicion that he did, in fact, very well know. Gabby sighed.

“Kevin, look,” he began, standing up and crowding into his space. Kevin shrunk back, slightly intimidated. Gabby was a big guy. “We both don’t wanna be here. You knew what you were getting into when you decided to start an affair with one of the most dangerous men in the world’s wife. He knows you were fucking her, and I can assure you that he hated your guts for it, that’s why he hired some half-assed security personnel to guard you in Namibia. She was supposed to be a pawn in whatever game he’s playing, and she’s dead, and you’re captured, and he still hasn’t gotten what he wanted. He’s still gonna look for some way to fund the big baddies, and he’s not gonna get out of his way to find you, because he knows I’ll either kill you or even if we let you go, nobody will ever believe some self-entitled brat was shagging the late Monica Abasque. So for the sake of both of us, just tell me what you know about him, before I make you. I can guarantee you it’s going to be long and painful for you, and involves a lot of effort on my part, effort I’m not willing to expend on you. You’ve been in Blackwatch, you _ know _ what I’m all about. Start talking.”

He stood up to his full height, arms folded across his broad chest, legs apart. Your traitorous mind begun promptly showing you images of your prefered position between his legs, on your knees, and you grit your teeth so hard you were sure you’d lost some enamel off of them, trying to get your mind in a semblance of control. You needed to focus. There was ample time later on in the evening to go jerk off to thoughts of having his thick cock in your mouth, just not  _ now. _

Kevin looked down, no doubt nervous, apprehensive. You saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed, contemplating his fate. Suddenly he closed his eyes, and his shoulders started heaving. You couldn’t hear it very clearly from your earpiece, but it looked like he was sobbing. You felt just a little sorry for him.

Gabby, however, was much less sympathetic. “Would you like a moment? Cry to your heart’s content, then when you’re done you can give me the information I need.”

His tone of voice never changed. He was neutral. Emotionless.

_ Cold. _

He turned around and started walking away, before Kevin, very meekly, spoke up again.

“Will you protect me?” It was so quiet you could barely hear him. Gabby stopped, not even bothering to look at him.

“I offered you protection once. You chose to decline. Figure it out.”

He walked out to join you, facial expression still as stoic and indifferent as he ever was. You both stayed there for about fifteen minutes, both of you leaning against the table, nobody saying a word. The silence between you was comfortable, interestingly enough.

“Wasn’t that a bit harsh?” you offered, watching Kevin wipe his tears and collect himself to start talking.

“So’s life.”

He headed back into the interrogation chamber, and Kevin begun talking. Even after, when Gabby was heading to his quarters, Kevin was being led to...wherever the fuck he was being led to and you were heading to do transcribing, his two final words still stuck with you, echoing in your head. You knew Gabe had seen and done some shit, having been military, one of the only two men who survived the Soldier Enhancement Program, fought during the Omnic war and having been Commander of Blackwatch since it’s inception, but sometimes you forgot that he was still human, despite being a super soldier and he had repressed some of the more gruesome experiences he’s been through.

So’s life indeed.

…

“Gabby, I’m done with the transcribing. Is there anythiiiiiiiii-”

The sight you were assaulted in when you walked into your commander's quarters was something between an explicit wet dream and an innocent beautiful dream. Your mouth immediately dried up, tongue refusing to pull itself from the roof of your mouth, and the traditional spirits of your people’s ancestors are probably the ones that appeared to close your mouth, judging you in the process because shook couldn’t describe what you were witnessing.

He was seated on a chair, large, and comfortable, cushions to rest his arms on. He had no shirt on, and his slacks were pulled down low,  _ very  _ low, significantly lower than they should be. You walked in when he was pulling his boxers down too, and he made sure to lock gazes with you when you saw his...compromising situation. 

See, a normal dude would have been extremely humiliated, probably cursed  and screeched at you and told you to get the fuck out and leave the transcribed notes on his desk and go back to your quarters and forgot what you ever saw.

Gabriel Reyes, Leader of the Strike Force that led man against the Omnics in the Omnic Crisis and current Commander of Blackwatch, the Black Ops branch of Overwatch, was  _ not  _ normal.

Gabriel fucking Reyes, sighed, then  _ smirked.  _ At you. You audibly gulped.

“Close the door. Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable. It’s been a shitty day. Might as well entertain us.”

You opened your mouth to try and say something: apologise for walking in on him like this, to stop him, tell him your birthday wish,  _ anything,  _ but once again, when you needed it the most, the wonders of speech had failed you. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath and tried again.

“I...Comma-I mean, Gabby, I-I’m sorry, I just-”

“Did I stutter?”

Well, that settled that. You did as he said. You took a seat, pulled it in front of him, about two or so feet and sat. Gabby sunk slightly lower into his chair and still smirking, lowered his boxers and his cock sprung out, hard and thick. Your gaze dropped to it, subconsciously licking your lips, having never seen it before, despite the fact that it had been inside you, but it was better than you ever had imagined. God it was  _ massive,  _ and beautiful: so smooth and even. It looked like it was quite nice to touch.

You never thought you’d describe a literal penis as ‘quite nice to touch’ but thirst tended to fuck your cognitive processes up.

Your mind began functioning again (apparently, it was broken. You couldn’t blame yourself, quite frankly) when his hand moved up and down on his shaft, and you realised that his cock was so thick that his middle finger barely touched his thumb, and Gabby’s hand is pretty huge. You gasped, then choked, and the sounds seemed very foreign to you, like you were hearing them from another source.

“Like what you see? Want me to go harder?”

His voice was low, rough, husky. It had dipped an octave, and there was something exceptionally sinful about it today, sounding as luxurious and hardcore as the best diamond, perfectly cut. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, moving your hands under your thighs, trying to be subtle about the friction you desperately needed between your legs, on your clit. You opened your mouth to respond, but there was no sound, so instead you risked a glance at him, nodding shyly.

He was eyeing you, that sly, sexy smirk on his face, his eyes significantly darker, pupils wide. Even in the somewhat dim lights you could still see his lust projected at you. Your heart beat increased. You always had a thing for watching attractive men jerk themselves off, but the actual experience was really something else altogether.

He moved his left arm over the armrest, and let it dangle there loosely, as his right hand continued stroking his dick, harder and faster. He occasionally slowed down when he got to his tip, running his thumb slowly over his slit, covering it with his precum, making sure you saw. He did it deliberately slowly, and his quiet grunts of pleasure filled your ears. Your mouth watered, and you doubted if you ever wanted to have something in your mouth that desperately, but you couldn’t move. Shock that he had the sheer  _ grit  _ to make you watch him jerk himself off, and the arousal of watching him jerk himself off made you stay on your chair, stunned into silence, just shamelessly staring.

As he continued stroking himself, of course, stopping to thumb himself once in a while because he was a sexy, sadistic, asshole, he also got louder. His grunts turned into groans, which turned into curses, in both Spanish and English. You knew what he was saying for the most part, but at this point in time your brain was broken. Honestly you had never seen a man look so attractive, slouching in his chair, masturbating for the both of you, and you knew he was about to cum when he jerked his hips into his hand. You thought he looked absolutely exquisite like this, head thrown back, biting his full lower lip, eyes closed, biceps on his right arm flexed as he stroked that thick cock of his, moaning out expletives at the pleasure he gave himself.

You wanted to encourage him, but you were too overwhelmed with lust to think straight, and as recent past experience had demonstrated, your vocal cords had decided to give themselves a break.

“Fuck,” he swore, and just that word made you whimper. You didn’t want to blink, and it was good that you didn’t, because just at that moment he came with one last jerk of his hips, spilling himself all over his hand and his abs. You swallowed, your hands and your cunt simultaneously clenching at his cum shooting up and all onto his body, and your twisted brain somehow managed to inform you how beautiful the contrast of his white cum and his dark skin was.

His cock went limp in his hand, and he let go of it with a satisfied sigh.

“Wanna go help me clean up?” Really, how could you say no to a voice that sounded like crushed velvet?

Anyway, you  _ really  _ needed to clean up. Your underwear was so wet it would probably be squelching when you walked.

On your way to the bathroom, it did, and Gabe, naturally, being a cocky piece of shit, was not above informing you how proud he was of making you that aroused. You weren’t sure whether you were more embarrassed or humiliated.

How was this real life?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have to realise I paused /3 times/ to write this fic, especially the last bit, so y'all have to suffer like me.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed yourselves, you thirsty savages. Please don't hesitate to gimme any constructive criticism. Your comments/kudos fuel my passion for writing. I really do appreciate it.
> 
> <3


	6. Chapter VI

_ “Come for it,  _ cariño.  _ You know you want it.” _

You woke with a start, for the third -  _ third _ \- time this night, sitting on your bed. You weren’t exactly panting, but your breathing was slightly deeper than normal. You were hot, and drenched with sweat, even as you slept nude. You knew exactly what the problem was, and it wasn’t a fever.

His voice couldn’t stop echoing in your head, particularly the way it dipped when he called you that term of endearment. Honestly if you knew just sleeping with him once  _ and then  _ allowing him to eat you out and shamelessly watching him jerk himself off would do this to you…

You tried swallowing, but your mouth and your throat were dry, your tongue heavy in your mouth. You flopped backwards on your bed, closing your eyes for a moment, and immediately your treacherous brain bombarded you with your commander slouched on his char thumbing his cock and smirking at you. You opened them again, panting this time, mentally telling Satan that he was not allowed to make any settlements in your mind today. Tonight. This morning. Whatever time it fucking was.

Actually, what  _ was  _ the time? You rummaged around your bedside drawer, looking for your watch. You put on your lampshade, and saw that it was about two o’clock in the morning. Fucking great, you fumed mentally, switching off the light and flopping back on the bed as you carelessly threw your watch back to where it was before. Not only do you get a fucking wet dream starring your commander, you also get it at some cursed hour and now you’re terrified to go back to sleep because as beautiful a man as he is, there’s only so much smooth, black skin covering lean muscle you could take in a night.

You sighed, as you opened your legs and slipped your fingers in between them, gasping wantonly as your forefinger slid in between your folds. God you were wet. You passed them all around, feeling how how swollen they were, slick with your fluids. You gasped again as one of your fingers brushed against your clit.

You slipped one of your fingers into your cunt, and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from screaming. It would be so awkward when nearby operatives would bulge into your quarters to find you fingering yourself over your fucking commander.

Not that most of them didn’t.

Slowly, you pushed your fingers out, before pushing them back in again. As amazing as this felt, it wasn’t bone-crushing pleasure like when Gabby had his fingers inside you, though to be fair, you could chalk that to his fingers being longer and thicker, therefore reaching places that you couldn’t no matter how hard he tried, and also the angle. You knew you’d give yourself wrist cramps after this, but you knew it would be more than worth it.

And to think his di-

That thought was interrupted by a moan, quiet, but just as dirty, followed by your thumb stroking your clit, which made your whole body tremble. If you were being completely honest with yourself, there were very few things you wanted in your life more than having that long and thick cock inside you again.

Slowly, you set a rhythm, pushing your fingers in and out of yourself at a quick and strong pace. You went on, your hand getting tired bent at the weird angle it was, but when you thought about what he looked like nude, how he held his cock, the way he bit his lip when he watched you cum for him,  _ around  _ him, how his hard, muscular body felt against yours when you arched into him, how he  _ commanded  _ you to cum for him...all these thoughts filled your brain as you started to feel the coil in your stomach tighten, the heat and pleasure shooting all over your body. You brushed your thumb over your clit again, not as rough or calloused as his, but it would have to do. It still wasn’t enough. You needed one last thing to push you over the edge-

_ “Come for it,  _ cariño.  _ You know you want it.” _

“Gabriel…” you whined, almost sobbing as your orgasm hit you, and it hit you hard. Still with your fingers deep between your legs you came, shaking and quivering on your bed as you went through your orgasm. You flopped back down on your bed, pulling your fingers out, wet and sticky, hanging off your bed and panting hard, trying to regulate your breathing.

Hopefully, this jerk off session could get the thirst temporarily out of your system. You really needed to sleep.

...

“You okay there Sav? You look like you had a bit of a rough night. Couldn’t masturbate all the arousal out of you for a proper night’s sleep?”

You glared at Ana from the rim of your mug, as Reinhardt snorted and Mercy Dr. Ziegler and Strike Commander Morrison were struggling not to smile. Gabby, the  _ shameless _ piece of shit and his colleague from the depths of Hell were outright smirking.

You wondered if the trouble you’d get into for lugging entire mugs at the Deputy Strike Commander of Overwatch and the Commander of Blackwatch’s heads would be mitigated on grounds of instigation.

You, however, couldn’t deny that she was right. You were exhausted. You thought one quick jerk off session would temporarily ease your thirst and the resulting orgasm would get you tired enough to pass out, but that one alleged jerk off session turned into about six and multiple orgasms later it was an hour before you were to wake up and here you were, grumpy, horny and  _ hella  _ tired.

However, at the back of your mind, what pissed you off the most was the fact that your Commander didn’t even have to  _ try  _ to get you aroused. Something as simple as a glance was enough to have your stomach doing somersaults, and your pride, more than anything, was severely wounded at that fact.

It seemed Satan was very active today.

“I strongly doubt,” you muttered through clenched teeth, after putting down your mug with unnecessary force. “That you called me to make fun of my lack of sleep due to my uncontrollable hormones. With the exceptions of Gabby and Ana, I don’t think the rest of you are  _ that  _ petty.”

Gabby chuckled, the sound warm, deep and masculine. You swallowed, taking in a deep breath to try and steady yourself. The man was going to kill you. “Actually yes. There’s something we need to show you. Someone you should be able to identify,” Rinehardt said, his voice back to business. You noticed that everyone else was serious again.

Dr. Zeigler handed you a holo with a picture. It was a body of a little girl, about ten years old, a clean bullet hole by her tragus, her genitals cut up, bleeding and mutilated. Her name was Judy, and you rescued her during your last mission in Cameroon, the one you did before you ended up with your boss in a desert in Namibia nearly dying of hypothermia and then proceeding to ride his dick. You closed your eyes tight, pursuing your lips, and you slammed the holo on the desk so hard the screen cracked. You noticed nobody but Dr. Ziegler winced.

You zeroed your gaze at Ana, who’s face was straighter than her aim. She’s the only one that could understand that behind that rage was grief. Pure, unadulterated grief.

Strike Commander Morrison cleared his throat, then begun speaking. “She was kidnapped from us, apparently on orders from Abasque. He’s aware of how valuable she was to us as a whole and he-”

You turned around and walked out. You did not want to hear another word, not even a  _ letter  _ from his mouth. This mission seemed to be getting worse and worse,  and considering it had hit you this hard, enough to make you cry, you didn’t foresee this going very well.

…

A soft knock on your door startled you awake. You groaned, pulling the covers of your body and sitting up, groaning in pain as your head pounded like a collection of Ghanaian peg drums.

The knock came again. “Come in,” you growled, and Ana crept in, gently closing the door behind her. She came and sat next to you on the bed, rubbing your back soothingly, and your head fell on her shoulder as you sniffed.

“Has your temper soothed?” she asked, her voice gentle.

“No,” you responded, your voice flat.

Silence.

“Savanna,” Ana begun, her accented voice somehow managing to tame you rage. “I have come to apologise on behalf of-”

“I’m sorry, Ana. Please excuse me for interrupting, but why, exactly, is it  _ you  _ that has come to apologise? Last time they pulled off this kinda shit isn’t it Rinehardt that they sent? Why are they always sending other people? Why is it so difficult for them to come and apologise themselves? Or is it beneath them, to apologise to a mere  _ Blackwatch Operative?” _

Again Ana said nothing, instead staring at her gloves, contemplating how to answer you.

“They are a little bit apprehensive because they are scared they upset you.”

“Oh, because we don’t fucking know why,” you said incredulously, throwing your hands up in the air for emphasis.

Again Ana was silent, waiting for the incoming rant, and boy were you going to  _ rant. _

“Listen here, Ana. Morrison and Zeigler know better.  _ They know fucking better.  _ They are the Strike Commander and Head Medical officer respectively of fucking Overwatch. Absolutely  _ nobody  _ can bring their dusty ass to me and try to convince me otherwise, because so help me God I will fucking smash their jaws in. Morrison and Zeigler know that I don’t like them. They know  _ why  _ I don’t like them, and they know what they need to do to change. Instead they choose not to. They choose to remain ignorant, despite what you and Commander Reyes are constantly telling them. “

You stopped to take a breathe. Ana still stayed silent. She knew this rant. She’d gone through it before, and she also knew exactly what would happen after.

“I’ll start with Morrison, since I have to pretend to be polite and use rank. He’s the last, Ana,  _ the last fucking person  _ to come here and start claiming how ‘Judy was important to to us’ and ‘how valuable she was to us as a whole’ because who the fuck is ‘us’? Who is ‘us’, Ana? Because I distinctly remember him being one hundred percent against me letting her stay, giving her the mental assistance she desperately needed because ‘she’ll be a liability and a vulnerability since some of us might develop a bond with her’, very conveniently forgetting that  _ I  _ became a fucking Overwatch operative in the  _ exact same way,  _ I had suggested Judy join the ranks, with none of his fucking help whatsoever, may I add, and here I am, one of the best fucking snipers alive at this moment. You developed a bond with me, and here we are, prospering. Tell me the truth, Ana, if Judy didn’t come from Cameroon, would he have been that adamant in refusing her to stay? Yes, I know he’d have objected, but would he have objected as strongly?”

The silence was deafening, and it answered that question a lot more eloquently than any words she’d ever have uttered.

“And holy shit I have  _ a lot  _ to stay about fucking Zeigler, but those are stories for other times. I strongly doubt you and Rinehardt saw that despicable holo picture, because I could bet the entire fucking Overwatch budget that you’d both have flat out  _ refused  _ to let her show me Judy in such a state. For someone who apparently has buttloads of empathy, it normally tends to disappear into the fucking void when she’s dealing with my people. You want to tell me that she couldn’t have taken another picture? A picture where the bullet wound was filled and her mutilated nether regions covered? She was ten years old, Ana.  _ Ten. Fucking. Years. Old.  _ She was brutally gang raped, tortured and  _ murdered.  _ And  _ that  _ was the best picture Dr. Zeigler could give me? Where is her empathy then? She  _ knew  _ how much it would affect me, but I mean, she really doesn’t give a fuck, does she? I’m sure she would have given all the fucks when Judy wasn’t Cameroonian.”

Ana never said nothing, knowing better. She sat still, as if she was the one being scolded, but she knew she wasn’t. She knew you was venting, she knew you needed an outlet, and she was happy to lend an ear, so to speak.

“I’ll be sure to tell them of your feelings,” she said quietly, standing up, about to leave.

You snorted. “Don’t fucking bother,” you responded, voice still flat, getting back into bed to cry yourself to sleep.

…

You noticed the next day that many operatives tended to keep as far a distance as they could from you, only saying hi and going on their way. You didn’t particularly mind, as you still in a sour mood from the previous day.

The good thing from this whole mess was that at least you had a full night’s sleep. It seems even emotional exhaustion has it’s good points.

You walked into Reinhardt,  _ literally  _ walked into him as you were struggling to remove your muffin from its baking paper.

“Oof,” you said, managing to hold your muffin and preventing from falling. “Sorry about that, Reinhardt,” you apologised somewhat sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck.

He smiled brightly, and your lips involuntarily tugged upwards as well. There was no way one could be sad or angry when around the large man. “No problem at all,” he boomed, his voice reverberating everywhere. He lowered his head, and his voice, to your height.

“I heard about vat Jack and Angela did, sending Ana to apologise on your behalf. That was very rude, and I’ll be sure to tell them so. Don’t vorry about it. Now, go to your Commander’s office. He needs to see you, he can’t reach you because you have svitched off all your devices, and I’m just about the only person who can talk to you without risking being punched, and he can’t get Ana.”

You smiled, your mood brightened significantly. You knew the Strike Commander and the Doctor were in for an  _ earful. _

“Thank you, Reinhardt.”

Turns out it was going to be not that bad of a day, honestly. You realised you had a bit of a bounce in your step on your way to go and see Gabby. If you knew him, maybe he and Anna had already yelled at the other two. Ana was very well aware of how upset you were, and she had no doubt relayed your feelings to him, and you knew Gabby. He had definitely given them a piece of his mind. 

Which is what explained you not knowing Gabby wanting to see you. The Strike Commander would be all up in your face about keeping senior personnel waiting, and the fact that no one had told you anything, said a lot in itself.

Well, time to go see Gabby then.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can tell, I have a lot, /a lot/ of feelings about Soldier 76 and Mercy, particularly in relation to Reaper and Overwatch as a whole. I am of the strong belief that Blizzard was mad shading the UN, but you can holla at me on da tumblz (nutheadgee.tublr.com) if you want more meta and discussions and about 80 tonnes of salt about how Reyes was outright /robbed/ of the promotion to Strike Commander.
> 
> Also, this story took just about the most expected turn from what I initially planned. RIP.
> 
> Still hope you enjoyed it though.


	7. Chapter VII

Well, today was going to be an adventure.

You were half tempted to go back to your own quarters and go get your weapon, but that would be really cumbersome because you were a sniper anyway, so you just stayed there and (im)patiently waited.

Waited for  _ Gabby. _

Gabriel was a very interesting bloke. He embodied what was expected of a Commander. He was, together with the Strike Commander, one of the most successful products of the SEP. He had experience, having been in the United States military since he was sixteen, and having being drafted straight from there into Overwatch. He had the leadership qualities and the skillset that were needed to run a task force as important as the one that was in charge of eliminating the rogue omnics during the Omnic Crisis. He was an excellent marksman, a phenomenal soldier, and a brilliant strategist. He was one of the very few frontline men who you knew had even been involved in diplomatic mission. He could exceptionally charming if he felt he needed to be. 

You knew from experience. You had been on the receiving end of that charm, because you had ended up naked, beneath him, being brutally fucked into stupid bliss by him.

However, these are the exact same qualities that made Gabe one of the most terrifying human beings you knew. He was scarily intelligent, something even the Omnics acknowledged. He was very good at being able to predict future behaviour based on past and current behaviour. It was whispered that that was one of the reasons Overwatch was able to win the war. He was excellent at masking his emotions, even from his voice, and having neutral body language, making him very hard to read. He wasn’t quite as inherently terrifying as Ana and her calm demeanour and sweet voice, but he was very close, and you could see that now.

He was very calm, RBF in place. He was going through some documents, which he promptly arranged neatly in a file when you walked in. He was already dressed in full Overwatch gear, sans jumper and armour. He grabbed his beanie and put it on, pulling it over his unruly hair, holstered his weapons. He looked up to you, and your heartbeat tripled as your stomach did that somersault thing it liked to do when he levelled that intense gaze at you. You could swear he was reading your mind, dissecting your soul.

“Kevin wants to talk. He knows some shit about Judy and Abasque. It’ll be important to know what he wants before we talk to Morrison.”

His baritone was that flat and dry drawl it took when he didn’t want people to be able to gauge his mood, almost sarcastic. You’d become relatively good at it, but at this point even you weren’t sure whether he was angry or amused or even indifferent.

It seemed Commander Reyes was back, and you swallowed, in nerves and something else you definitely shouldn’t be feeling, and hot lust dropped straight from the pit of your stomach into your cunt. It wasn’t even late morning yet and you already needed a change of underwear. Not like this.

He didn’t even wait for you to confirm, he immediately started walking out, his long stride making you have to trot to catch up with him Welp.

...

A mess could not begin to describe what this Kevin character looked like. You actually felt sorry for him this time. His eyes were red and swollen, a sign that he’s been crying a lot. His hair was a mess, and he had definitely not showered since he was brought in, which was just over twenty four hours. His lower lip was trembling, swollen and cut, dried blood caked on a cut in the middle, and he had barely eaten, considering the fact we had actually brought him good food from the mess, not the kinda stuff that was given to detainees. You heard his shaky sigh when you both walked in, and he seemed to shrink in his chair, his hands tied behind him as he sat.

“Morning, sunshine. You look like shit. Did they actually let Jesse in here to fuck you up?” Gabby asked in that bored, flat, semi-drawl of his, walking in front of him and standing, crowding his space again, legs apart, large arms crossed over his muscular chest.

You almost chuckled. This guy and Jesse were both supposed to be Gabe’s protégés, but he buggered off and went to boink one of the most dangerous men in the world’s wife. Gabe, much more experienced in life and significantly more accustomed to betrayal, was able to get over it relatively easily and quickly. Jesse on other hand, had never known loyalty, friendship and affection in his days in the Deadlock gang. He had experienced them for the first time when he joined Blackwatch, where people actually  _ cared  _ and  _ were concerned for his wellbeing.  _ He didn’t take it as well, and he was more than bitter, even after all these years.

So hearing that Jesse had been in here to slug him one or two wouldn’t really surprise you.

“You need to control your operatives better,  _ Reyes,” _ he still managed to spit when he looked up. He looked up and you saw random, ugly, purple bruises on varying parts of his face, especially his right eye and his cheekbones.

Damn, you thought, as you raised an eyebrow, surveying his face. Jesse really  _ did  _ fuck him up.

Gabby shrugged in response, seemingly unmoved. “They’re my operatives, not my kids. They can control themselves just fine. After all, you can’t sit there and fucking pretend you donno why Jesse came in and pounded your face into mush.”

“Mc Cree is a selfish, entitled, shitstain. Just like  _ you.  _ He thinks he can just come in and do whatever he wants, like how-”

“The irony,” Gabby interrupted, voice staying the same despite how Kevin’s had risen in his rage. He looked like he was about to pop multiple veins on his forehead. He was  _ infuriated.  _ “I’m not here to debate ethics, Kevin. You had something to say. Tell me what it is so that I can release you and you go your way. The faster we do this, the better for both of us, because if I keep you here any longer the guys in UN are gonna start demanding paperwork as to why we’re keeping you here, and I’m not in the mood of dealing with bureaucracy right now because I have to deal with Abasque, so I can assure you that you that the faster we get out of each other’s faces, the better our lives will become.”

Kevin looked down again, took a deep breathe, and began mumbling. “He wants attention.”

You perked up, focusing more on what Kevin was saying. Gabby seemed unmoved, as usual. “He was getting inside information from Talon using his wife, because he needed that info to find out which cartels they are involved in Chile. Turns out they are everywhere, but they are particularly entrenched in copper and banking, the two biggest contributors to the Chilean economy.”

He paused, swallowing. You were about to hear some shit.

“Despite what everyone thinks, he wants to try and get Talon out of Chile. They are desperately exploiting the government, and in a roundabout way, the people. If you look at Talon’s books you’ll find that some of their most profitable business are in Chile. Abasque is trying to break down those cartels, trying to liberate our people from those, those monsters. Unfortunately, Monica was caught, because she got a little careless, and I was caught in the crossfire as well, collateral damage because I’m a fucking selfish, idiot, asshole.”

The silence was deafening. This seemed to be a lot more complicated than you’d anticipated. Goddamnit this was gonna be a long ass mission.

“He kidnapped and had his goons rape, torture and murder that young child because he was aware it was going to get you into action faster. I don’t really matter, because I know even if I leave this place I’ll be dead within twenty four to forty eight hours. I know Cruz. This is his twisted way of asking for help. Please, save my people, my country-”

His voice cracked towards the end, and he broke down, his shoulders heaving as he sobbed. Well, this was a trip. You had one question, though.

“Who is Cruz?”

“Abasque’s first name,” Gabby responded.

“Noble goals, just not the right way to go about it. Judy was a child who had gone a very traumatising experience when she was younger, and it was already going to take a significant amount of time for her to heal. Exposing her to even more, and arguably worse trauma and then silencing her just to get attention to save your country just shows of a deep-seated selfishness in itself. Abasque doesn’t have altruistic aims of liberating Chile from Talon. He stands to benefit substantially, and I will see to it that I will find out what those intentions are, then destroy him.” He was removing the cuffs from Kevin’s hands. “You’re free to go. There’s a chopper outside and it will take you wherever you wanna go, whether or not it’s in Switzerland.”

“NO!” he wailed, suddenly, clutching Gabe’s clothes and sobbing into his. “I don’t want to die by Abasque. I’d rather even die by you. You’re humane, you’ll make it quick.”

For a moment, Gabe was silent, just looking at him as indifferent as he ever was. You were frozen still in your corner, and Kevin continued sobbing quietly.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly. He was definitely affected, but he’d rather die than admit it.

“Yes. Please. Do it. I’m sure.”

Gabby turned to you. “Take him to the wall,” he ordered, as he unholstered his weapon. You did as he was ordered, making sure Kevin faced the wall. You walked away, to go stand next to your commander, a few feet to his left.

“ _ Adios, amigo.”  _ He pulled the trigger, a clean shot, and you saw the front of the wall splattered in blood and probably some brain tissue, before Kevin’s knees hit down, then he fell forward, dead before he even hit the ground. You called the medical department, requesting someone to come and get the body and clean up the cell. You met Dr. Ziegler on your way back to Commander Reyes’ office, and though you were still a bit mad at her, you kept your mouth shut.

“You didn’t have to kill him, Gabriel. I’m sure we could have worked something out with him.”

Gabe stopped dead in his tracks and turned around, looking right at her. She had a stern expression, but you could see the fear in her eyes and the nerves in the way she swallowed. Nevertheless she held his gaze, and at the very least you applauded her for that.

“I really feel sorry for you,  _ Angela,  _ because you think just because your job is to play god with people’s lives death is the worst thing that could happen to a human being.” He turned around and continued walking, heavy boots echoing over the tiled floors, waving casually at her. “You’ll rue those words the day you will find out there are things  _ much  _ worse than death in this world, and I hope you won’t reach out to me then, because I’ll have absolutely no sympathy, empathy or compassion to spare. I’ll see you at the holovid teleconference in a couple of hours.”

You wanted to chastise him about being so vague and petty, but you were a Blackwatch operative. You were very well aware that he was saying the truth. You had just witnessed it now, not more than two hours ago. You followed him, having a twinge of sympathy at the ominous words your commander had uttered to her.

…

You were seated in front of Gabe’s desk in his office, bluetooth device stuck in his ear. Apparently the Strike Commander couldn’t do a holovid teleconference for some reason or other, so it became just a normal call. He had connected it to the main speaker, so that you could also hear it.

“Hello?” The Strike Commander asked. You rolled your eyes, causing Gabby to smirk, because he knew why you were doing so. You were still low-key mad at him, and you weren’t amused that Gabby was making you sit here and listen to this conversation.

“Jack. How are you doing this fine morning?” His voice was the same as it normally was, like when he spoke to Kevin, but you  _ swore  _ you could hear a semblance of mischief in there.

“I’m doing fine, Gabe. Dr. Zeigler told me you killed the detainee?”

“His name was Kevin, and yes, I killed him. He asked me too, and seeing how his fate was not going to get any better when we left him wherever he’d have requested, I didn’t see why there would be an issue to grant him his wish.”

“Angela is still a bit shaken by what you told her in the corridor.”

Gabby shrugged, completely unmoved by it. “She asked. I answered.” There was a slightly tense silence. “Is that the reason she’s not in the call?”

“Yes. She’s very upset.”

Gabby smirked again. He was so  _ petty  _ and you lived because of it. “If she can take gruesome pictures of a raped, tortured and murdered ten year old little girl without feeling anything I’m sure she can manage to go through one foreboding statement.”

Oh  _ snap. _

“Anyway, I think we have some things to discuss.” He was trying to change the subject, and both of you were aware.

“Yes, the first one being both you and your beloved Angela owing my operative an apology. I want you to assure me, Morrison - soldier to soldier - that when Zeigler is done sulking, you’re going to get in touch with Savanna and apologise to her, formally and in person, because if you don’t, both Ana and myself will chew you out, for real this time.”

The Strike Commander sighed in what sounded like irritation, but when he responded his voice was still calm, formal. “You have my word, Reyes.”

“Good. Now, let’s get to Kevin.”

You were truly grateful that Gabe had demanded the Strike Commander and the doctor apologise to you, and you were thinking of any way you could truly relay your gratitude, preferably unconventionally. You considered asking around, when a devious idea hit you. At that point in time you decided to go right through it, because you knew both of you would enjoy it immensely.

You immediately got off your chair, and crawled towards him, pulling his legs apart and settling yourself in between them. He never seemed to object at all, but he was glaring at you, still managing to hold a conversation with the Strike Commander. You smiled sweetly at him, and his eyes got significantly darker when you palmed him over his pants. He slid lower on his chair, pulling his knees further apart, and making things significantly easier for you. About the third time you passed your palm over his crotch, you felt it, already hot and hard and long and thick. He wanted this, and no amount of his glaring would stop you from giving it to him.

You unclasped his belt and opened his pants,  reaching out for him, thick,bulging and swollen in his boxers. He was already aroused, and you could anticipate that he was getting harder as the seconds ticked by. You internally relished in that, literally feeling your mouth water, as you reached for him, your hand landing at the base of his cock as it sprung out, smiling mischievously as you felt his breath hitch when you ran your thumb on the vein under him, watching precum bead on his head, leaking out in anticipation. You ran your thumb over his head, most likely very sensitive at this point, literally having to move your hand up to reach because of how big he was. You ran your forefinger down his shaft, leaving a trail of precum on it, and you saw him shudder. Curiously, you sucked your finger, wondering what he tasted like, but mostly to see his reaction.

He swallowed, and you applauded him. His voice was still steady, train of thought still functioning, but you both knew his body would give out on him soon enough, despite his steely control. You grabbed him again - and eyeing him through your lashes you saw him close his eyes and throw his head back, biting his lower lip - and you pressed the flat of your tongue against his shaft, licking your way up and wrapping your lips around his head, sucking firmly once, as you would a popsicle. His glorious thighs shuddered.

“Morrison, I’ll call you back. I need to discuss this with my operative.” Before the Strike Commander could respond, he hang up.

“ _ Joder _ ,” he whimpered. Much better, you thought.

Without giving him a moment’s respite you immediately took him in, wrapping your lips around his tip and sinking down onto him. He let out a moan, long, low and deep as one of his hands immediately grabbed your braids at the back of your head. He was massive, and you tried fitting as much of him as you could into your mouth, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat when your lips came in contact with your hand at his base. The next time you moved up, you used your tongue to lick the underside of his cock, watching your saliva coat his dick, before you got to his tip sucking on it, simultaneously twisting anticlockwise with your hand.

He gasped roughly, bucking his hips upwards. You pushed him down, holding him there as you sunk yourself back onto him. He fidgeted a little bit, but at this point you had the power. Slowly, you set a rhythm, bobbing your head slowly on his cock as you alternated between twisting your hand like a cork screw and pumping up and down. You managed to sneak a glance up at him through your lashes, and you thought he looked phenomenal like that, in the throes of pleasure. He had thrown his head back, eyes closed, lips slightly parted, his chest rising up and down, breath coming out in short gasps. His curls were slightly disheveled, some of them sticking to his dark forehead, with one of his hands grabbing his seat like a lifeline and the other hand grabbing the back your braids. You made sure to swirl your tongue over and around him when you moved, occasionally swallowing and moaning around him as well.

“Shit,” he whispered, shifting slightly above you again. “I’m going to-” he choked, before you felt his cock twitch on your tongue as he snarled, and then he came, spilling himself in your mouth, his cum thick and warm. He glanced down at you, eyes half-lidded as you swallowed around him, trying to elongate his orgasm for as long as you could. He bit his lip, swearing in Spanish under his breath, his eyelids shuttering closed as he arched himself upwards and you blushed, his cock still in your mouth, as his hips jerked uncontrollably, going through the last stages of his orgasm.

You let go of him with a pop, his hand still holding your hair.

“Swallow,” he commanded, and you did, before he pulled you over his body and devoured your mouth. He kissed you for a moment, before he broke off and for a moment just looked at you. He lifted his hand, running a thumb down your chin, where some of his seed had spilled out of your mouth because he’d cum that much.

“Such a nasty little whore for me, aren’t you,” he breathed out with a smirk, definitely satisfied, making you blush a little bit.

You shrugged. “I don’t see you complaining.”

“Good, because we’re going to Chile. Someone has to assassinate Abasque and cause some ripples in Talon.”

You almost fell of him, quite surprised.

“Oi,” you said, subconsciously wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Luckily, there was no cum, as Gabe had wiped it all off with his thumb. “I thought you told Strike Com-”

“I lied. Chopper’s waiting. I sent Ana a message, told her to pack us some stuff when I was talking to Jack. You got your weapons? Just have the ammo you need for now. We can get the rest from there for relatively cheaper. Quickly, we’ll be late.”

_ Why were you  _ never  _ ready for the times with your goddamn difficult boss?! _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, folks.
> 
> Thank you all so very much for joining me in my first ever Overwatch story, thirsting over Gabe and roasint Jack and ANgela and fangirling over Ana and Rinehardt. This story was honestly an absolute joy to write, and I've had a great time engaging with you guys.
> 
> Will there be another Overwatch story thirsting over Gabe? Yes, of course, but it'll be post-Overwatch destruction, so we have Reaper, and we all know black don't crack and we know he's aged like fine scotch, undead or not. Like you guys be honest with yourselves, you'd hop on Reaper's undead dick in a heartbeat because like hello????? I know I would.
> 
> Debating on whether my main lead should also be slightly older or not, lie 40 but a BANF, something similar to a slightly younger current canon Ana, but we'll see.
> 
> Anyways, enough babbling. TTYL loves. Bless. <3 <3 <3


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